


Die As I Live

by sniperct



Series: Keep Running [1]
Category: Mirror's Edge
Genre: F/F, Femslash, Parkour, Runners, Running
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-17
Updated: 2015-06-17
Packaged: 2018-04-04 21:03:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4152876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sniperct/pseuds/sniperct
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I’m not afraid. Not on the thin edge, so close to hurtling to the pavement five hundred feet below. I’m not afraid of my reflection as I scale the side of a building, or leap from one to another. If I die, it’ll be as I live, on a mirror’s edge.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Die As I Live

Time slows, just air beneath me and the sky above. Distant and far below is the sound of life. People moving, engines rumbling. No one looks up, no one looks anywhere. Look ahead, hunch your shoulders, pretend, pretend, pretend everything’s all right. Pretend there’s no eyes watching us.

It’s an open secret that no one talks about, the ubiquitous eyes of the city. Those that don’t know any better just accept it, freedom traded for their security. Those that do know better understand that it’s something to be afraid of. 

Time returns to normal, my feet connect with the top of the crane and I slide. Faster and faster and at the last possible second I jump, once again suspended in the sky. Land. Roll. Keep running.

Other runners are out today. Up here we take the freedom we’re not allowed. Up here we’re a little bit more ourselves. My feet pound on the roof and the ledge comes up so fast that I’m airbound before I realize it. Seven meters down and three across and I’m safe. The flash of a blonde ponytail distracts me momentarily and I hear Celeste’s laugh ring through the air. “Last one back buys lunch!”

I can’t let her win. Cel has expensive taste. She also has a head start but when is that ever a problem? I know the route better than I know the tattoo on my arm. I’ve traced the paths of both endless times. Repetitive motion yet every time it feels new. Wind in my hair, cool against my skin, silent save the steady racing of my heart.

I’m not afraid. Not on the thin edge, so close to hurtling to the pavement five hundred feet below. I’m not afraid of my reflection as I scale the side of a building, or leap from one to another. If I die, it’ll be as I live, on a mirror’s edge.

Cel doesn’t know the back way in like I do. I’m sliding down a pipe and swinging in through the window and then I’m there, waiting, when she skids into the room seconds later. She looks at me, lifting her hands in defeat. “Someday, Faith. I’ll beat you.”

“Not today.” I give her a sympathetic pat on the back. My hand lingers. “I hope you’re in the mood for curry.”

Cel’s eyes soften. Her finger finds the path of ink on my shoulder. “You should try something new for once.”

“Beat me next time, and I’ll try _something_ new.”

She smiles like she smells a challenge. “You’re on.”


End file.
